


Tea Time

by happywrites



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Human AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-06 12:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/735935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happywrites/pseuds/happywrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo Baggin's owns the Bag End Tea Shop. Thorin does not like tea, but after a run-in with the most imperfectly perfect man he's ever seen, he's willing to make an exception.</p>
<p>**On a forever-hiatus, because I stink.**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I originally started this on my writing/art tumblr, happywrites.tumblr.com. As such, I'll be posting chapters there first but they'll make it on here as well!
> 
> ... Also, I'm a long time RPer so I'm sorry if my writing isn't the best. I'm not used to doing full stories by myself.

There was a certain curl to his hair, a beckoning to the wild, untamed part of him that lay beneath his composed, cheery demeanor. Thorin could see in his hands how domesticated he was. His fingers were used to working over teacups made of fine china. The hardest thing they’d yet to grip was perhaps the handle of a broom, or a damp cloth for quick cleaning when guests came. He should have been perfectly boring to him. There should have been no intrigue in him towards the flush of his cheeks when he laughed a little too hard; no pleasure in the way the skin around his eyes wrinkled when his smiles grew large. No distraction should have come to him when he would lick his dry lips…

Bilbo Baggins was quite the man, seemingly enough of one to catch the brooding eye of Thorin Durin. He’d never imagined such a thing happening when he’d settled down with barely restrained weariness in the comfort of The Shire. Surely, he had thought to himself as he had first taken recluse in the cozy Bag End Tea Shop a month prior, that he would find no reason to return again. He was not the sort to take pleasure in this art of drinking leaf residue that has been soaked in hot water. The bitter, disgusting mixture had no right assaulting his taste buds the way it did. No, his sole purpose of stopping in had been more in avoiding the pursuit of his sister than the sampling of any sense of “culture” on that warm afternoon. 

Thorin Durin was not afraid of his sibling, and would level his steely gaze on anyone who insisted it. Dis was a lovely woman, who also happened to have a right hook that felt like one had been hit in the face with a mini freight train. She was altogether his very… beautiful, lovable, completely too strong willed, and too strong in general for her own damn good, sister. She didn’t take no’s for answers, and maybe’s only unsettled her further, until she was altogether prying her slippery way into everyone’s business.  
Last month, Dis hadn’t taken kindly to her brother not disclosing any information towards who had left a very peculiar mark on her youngest son’s neck.

“It’s a bug bite,” Thorin had insisted over a mouthful of bread and butter, only to see his sibling’s face contort into an expression of full disbelief. Thinking back on it, he should have known better than to go into her damned kitchen. She always sprung these… talks on him once in there. “Oh, it’s a bite all right, Thorin,” ever the lovely woman, she had hissed and he had swallowed his food thickly as a result. “I know you know who did it.” Dis’ features had smoothed with her statement, like the calm before a storm. As an uncle not wanting to betray the trust of his nephew, Thorin had carefully scratched his beard with his index finger, “maybe…?” If Thorin were a man of unsavory emotions, which would not make him much of a man at all, he would have wept over the drastic turn his day had taken in that very instant.

Skidding along the streets of The Shire and trying to maintain composure at the same time, Thorin had spotted the sign above the building he currently rested again. “Bag End Tea Shop.” If he were honest with himself, and he was for that brief moment, Dis would never think to check in there.  
The shop as he had entered it appeared empty, although he would not spare any thought as to why. Since he held no interest in tea, it only made sense that others found it lacking in turn. Moving past the unoccupied counter, he’d steadily made his way back towards a single standing bookcase that was accompanied by a lonely, used looking armchair at the very end of the store. It did smell rather… refreshing in here. The temperature in the shop he would later learn, was always kept cool for the purpose of letting the heated drinks settle on the drinker in such a way that they were taken by satisfied goosebumps. At that time it had just cooled him from the running he’d done. As this was his first visit, he had only noted the worn-in qualities of the chair he was to occupy and the little throw rug underneath it. The book spines that faced outwards from their case seemed well loved and frequently thumbed through, something that Thorin wouldn’t begin to understand until later. He didn’t read unless necessary. Taking a dramatic flop into the awaiting chair, he ran a quick hand through his unruly mass of dark hair as he resigned himself to his fate. How long would Dis be looking for him? …It was all a matter of how bad her temper was today, and if him barely avoiding a hit to the nose had said anything, he was going to be slinking around The Shire well into nightfall.  
Thorin had been too caught up in his thoughts of how Dwalin was going to sorely miss his company whilst drinking, to pay much heed to any quiet foot steps. He’d only snap back to reality at the sound of a throat being cleared.

The first thing he had noticed about Bilbo Baggins was nothing worthy of poetry or praise. Rather, it was the man’s stout height. Thorin was taken rather suddenly with the idea that if he stood up, he could tower over him with ease, something that was oddly appealing. Power hungry, Dis had called him. He just liked having an advantage.  
“Hello, there,” the stranger said, sounding pleasant enough as Thorin finally looked him in the face. He was flushed with a peculiar sort of indignation, although Thorin was unable to place why. He had the most… intriguing look to him, even though anyone else may have labeled him as plain. To be sure, there was nothing perfect about him. Rather far from it, in cold truth. One of his eyes was a bit higher than the other, and his eyebrow followed suit with it. His lips seemed a bit thin for their length, and his hair was only kept out of his face with a hazardly placed hairclip. He was, Thorin realized with a rather stricken feeling… absolutely the most handsome person he had seen in his lifetime. All of his facial imperfections mixed into an altogether appealing visage that left him wordless. He was very, very taken with him. Oblivious to his effects on him, Bilbo’s—as he would later learn-- warm eyes dropped meaningfully to Thorin’s legs, which had been slung over the left arm of the chair he was in. Swallowing, he’d hastily dropped them to the floor.

Yes, it was a month prior that he had decided that he would be visiting the Bag End Tea Shop again.


	2. Noticed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dis thinks that Thorin is interested in someone. Bilbo notices Thorin is a regular at his shop.  
> Or... Dis wants to know who Thorin wants to do the dirty with. Thorin is unable to answer twice, and has more feels than words

Thorin Durin was shaken from his rather pleasant memories of Bilbo’s laughter to the cold reality that he was once more in his sister’s kitchen. It was with an ebb of panic that he wondered just how this had happened again. Dis stood a few feet in front of him, her face tilted to watch herself pour a glass of red wine. “It’s… only four in the afternoon, Dis…” Thorin tried unhelpfully as she casually leant on the counter, a little closer now. She smiled and took something longer than a sip from the glass, “Are you trying to say something, brother?” Thorin’s blue eyes merely searched her face, and if he thought that his sibling had the tendencies of an alcoholic when her sons weren’t around, he didn’t say it. He just thought it, very loudly, and with a stern puckering of his brown that made him look regal in the grey business suit he wore. _‘Have another glass of wine, maybe you’ll become easier to deal with…’_

 

When Dis raised one shaggy eyebrow at him, he merely cleared his throat instead. It didn’t take a side-by-side comparison to be able to tell the two were siblings, although Dis wasn’t as well groomed as her brother. She was wild in a beautiful way, bold and completely unabashed when it came to voicing her opinions. Her hair mimicked the same texture as Thorin’s, untamed and wavy, falling down her back and often caught in the wind once out in the elements. It framed her face, lightened the age that had slowly begin to creep into her features, and was all in all, a distinguishing feature for her. Motherhood had softened her, but only in the presence of her boys and other children. She still remained a strong woman, despite being so close to crumbling at her husband’s death a mere seven years prior. He was shaken from his thoughts as Dis set her glass down; mostly empty save for a sip of wine.

 

Between them there was a brief moment of silence that was too sweet, too short lived. “Who is it?” His sister prodded, leaving Thorin aching to grab a glass to pour himself some wine as well… “Whose what?” Surely he sounded as strained as he looked, his mind was already racing to Bilbo Baggins. He could see his smiling, flushed face perfectly even without closing his eyes. Dis squared him with the unimpressed look she often gave her children, thinking she shouldn't have to clarify, “the person who’s got you looking so disturbingly chipper as of late.”

  
When clearing his throat didn’t help him come up with an answer, he instead shifted the locks that had fallen onto his shoulders, off. It had been two months since he’d begun visiting the Bag End Tea Shop. Beginning to feel see-through, he scrambled to think that there couldn’t be any obvious change to his demeanor. He still scowled at people who took up what he considered to be precious time, still kept to himself, and hell, he even thought he had eaten the same buttered bread every morning for the past ten years.

 

“You were humming yesterday,” Dis snapped when her brother proved to have taken too long to come up with an answer. The only sign that he had been caught was the lowering of his shoulders. She smiled in triumph. “It’s okay,” there was a soothing pat to his back, “you’re a handsome man, Thorin, and only human. You’d have to want to screw something eventually.” It was here that Thorin thought it would be best to forgo the glass and just take the wine in its entirety. “Just because someone hums, that does not mean they are thinking of someone to… romp with.” Dis’ infuriatingly sweet and knowing smile made him scowl. She clucked her tongue at him, as if he were just a silly child in denial.

It was on an angry, immature whim, that he snatched up her stupid bottle and left that damned kitchen.

 

As Thorin found out that day, he did not care for Dis’ wines and ended up forgoing it to a grateful Balin. It was well into the next day as he sat at his mahogany desk, slowly working his way through files appropriate for a case before he would even allow yesterday’s events to grace his mind. Stopping mid-way for a break, he rose to his feet rather stiffly and stretched his back with a bitter exhale. He did not hum, and even if he did, it would be away from Dis’ prying ears. How could his sister lament about her children being such troublemakers when they had clearly learnt it from their nosy mother! Frustrated, he checked his face, and then his hair with a smoothing hand, trying to will the stern anger from his features. He would get his lunch out of the office as per usual. But this time, no, this time he would not be visiting Bag End. In fact, he may avoid the place for some time. He didn’t need tea, quite the opposite really. He didn’t know why such a fetching man couldn’t work someplace else, someplace less conspicuous, like a bar, or a sandwich shop. Both of those didn’t draw unwanted attention with his presence in them.

When he was out among the streets of The Shire, he told himself walking past the teashop would be easy. Starting into a proud gait, he made to do so. He didn’t need to see that man, no matter how addicting his smiles were. Besides it seemed that Mister Bilbo Baggins had not even noticed such a regular customer,(Thorin), over the past two months. This was thought with bitter distaste, for if that was the case, well, he was quite handsome as Dis had said, and he could shift his interest elsewhere. Not that he had carried much fancy towards another until recently... His self-assured thoughts carried him past the flower shop, only a short distance from the very building he was set on walking past. As he finally stepped on the beginning of the sidewalk that connected to the shop, a voice caught him.

 

“Mr. Durin!” Thorin looked over his shoulder only to find no searching gaze, no person hurrying after his form or trying to wave him down. He could have sworn- “Mr. Durin…?” He turned to his right, which had previously been empty. A concerned looking Bilbo Baggins now occupied the space, peering earnestly into his face. Thorin took a surprised step back, his mouth tightening with the feeling.

 

Oh, gods. He really was cute.

 

Bilbo’s curls bounced when he moved too quickly, which he did out of the other man’s space. He did seem a bit flustered, if the prickle of pink along his cheeks counted for anything. “I’m sorry,” the shorter man lamented, “if that’s not your last name. Mrs. Lobelia at the flower shop next door said it was…” Thorin stared. This did not seem to help the shop keep any. “I mean…” An awkward silence ensured, in which Thorin grappled for a sense of normalcy, or any sort of topic, or even a fucking word.

 

He couldn’t open his mouth.

  
Bilbo’s head ducked as he moved back more, shuffling away, “I’m sorry, I just… you’re such a regular, and I…” He gripped the handle of his shop with a particularly pained look before he opened the door, “sorry.” That was his last apology as he went in, leaving Thorin in a daze.

  
"That's my name..." the stoic man hoarsely managed to the wooden door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying really hard to figure out the HTML and formatting for this. Sorry! :C
> 
> I originally started this on my writing/art tumblr, happywrites.tumblr.com. As such, I'll be posting chapters there first but they'll make it on here as well!


	3. Cracked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin is taught some things by his youngest nephew.
> 
> Or... Thorin comes to the conclusion that he is going to die alone, and that Kili is more trouble than he’s worth.

Thorin Durin was not a man who cowered, nor was he to flounder in the face of uncertainty. With his job came stress, and he handled it accordingly. This once though, just this once, maybe it would be alright to allow himself to feel thoroughly defeated. How many opponents has he stared down in court, never less important clients he had handled without flinching? Yet when it came to simply letting a man, (who owned a tea shop for God sakes), know that he was indeed being addressed by the right name, he faltered.

Thorin was not a man for tears, so instead he had felt the uncomfortable sensation of bile rising in his throat the longer he stared at the closed door of the Bag End Tea Shop.

 

He returned to his office with no lunch.

 

What felt like a week passed. Thorin performed his natural talent of being unearthly stubborn and threw himself into case work. He only had so long for Mrs. Kingston’s divorce and if he could get that bullheaded soon-to-be ex husband of hers to settle…

 

He worked long nights of dedicated research—dirt digging, as Dis liked to call it, and spent early mornings trying to down scalding hot coffee that contained the caffeine he so desperately craved.

 

Yes, it felt like a good week had already passed by. However, when Thorin lifted his head and stared blearily at his calendar, it had only been four days.

“God…damn it,” he hissed to his empty office, clutching the sides of his head as he slowly lowered his forehead to his desk. God damn that Bilbo Baggins and his infuriating tea, and damn this case and it not consuming an actual seven days worth of time instead of a measly four.

This was it, he thought dramatically as he stared at his closed door, which slowly blurred as his eyes lost their focus.  
He was going to die here in his office, fighting cases over who got to keep the pet poodle.  
He was going to die alone, because he couldn’t even confirm his name to a blushing man with dirty blonde curls.

Also he still didn’t like tea.

 

Another day dragged by, and with it Thorin’s scowling grew fiercer. There was a pitiful air to him, which just made his glowering downright pathetic. It did nothing to soften the roughness of his features or chill the stern curve of his lips. Instead he posed a menacing figure out in public, one which had helped scare Mr. Kingston into agreeing that perhaps he didn’t need the family dog afterall…

 

After two more days, it was his nephew who made Thorin crack.

Ori was a clever teenager whose smarts were obvious by his good grades and constant book reading. There was an assumption of innocence about him, but Thorin knew his cunning was well hidden underneath those dopey sweaters he wore. He was a family friend, a familiar face among the grinning ones of his nephews since they were small, and so Thorin was well acquainted with the quiet boy.

His presence had been all but demanded by Kili that afternoon, and it was only after Fili gave a much more quiet and polite request for his company, that he had relented.

Walking in the comfortable weather that Sunday was presenting, the group of three soon became four as they crowded around a wiry table. Outside of an American eats, Thorin calmly ordered the Fish and Chips, only barely suppressing a sigh when Fili and Kili ordered hamburgers, and then when Ori only got a bowl of soup.

“Oy! Get what you want, Ori,” Kili said with a smile, his straight dark hair swinging about his face as he adjusted himself restlessly in his chair. Thorin gazed at them over the top of his menu, wondering about just how annoying Kili would be to sit behind in class… “I got what I wanted,” Ori replied, lifting his hand as if to bite his thumb, but had thought better of it and rested it on the table instead. His nephew leant in with a laugh towards his friend, his face alight with what Thorin thought to be a disgusting amount of youth. Then his eyes settled on something that had him casting his gaze off as quickly as if he’d been struck. Just peeking out into view was Ori’s left knee, exposed to the sidewalk and street. On it rested Kili’s hand. Ori’s eyes barely widened, or maybe it was that they were just now returning to normal. His thin lips seemed to shudder, pulling into a ghost of a smile as he said something that pulled Fili into the conversation. Even as the three laughed, his youngest nephew’s hand never moved.

Everything Kili did towards his friend that evening suddenly had a new meaning that Thorin had never thought to contemplate before. His concern towards Ori’s food wasn’t just done out of teasing or playfulness. His nephew was earnestly concerned in his own stupid way whether or not Ori really was going to be full off of soup. When grades were brought about, Kili insisted fervently that Ori didn’t need to get all A’s. Previously Thorin had thought Kili did this in complaint so that he didn’t look bad in comparison, or rather that he was picking on him because he was so studious. Now he just had a headache.

It was only when Thorin settled into the quiet depths of his bedroom, looking out into his dim surroundings from his bed, that he realized just how stupid he had been. He laughs, clutching his head like he had done three days prior. His hair spilled over his hands, slipping through his fingers. He only numbly clutches at them, bending them in his grasp. First he thought of that blasted mark he’d gotten interrogated and chased over. He’d have to properly punish Kili for all the trouble he’d gotten his uncle into, not only due to his mother, but also for the improper introduction of the Bag End Tea Shop into his life. Kili, his youngest nephew who was so rash when it came to his actions, had always been the type to fear rejection. While Fili was able to easily shrug things off after stormy thinking, Kili strived to be something in others’ eyes. He was clumsier than his brother, but more eager and pronounced in his youth. If he had worked up the nerve to make a move on Ori, than surely Thorin, whom had nerves of steel compared to his nephew, could do the same to a Mister Bilbo Baggins.

 

 

The shop smelt as it always did. It was an odd familiarity he didn’t think he would have missed, but here he was with all the proper feelings of a prolonged absence. Sunlight shone through the windows, encasing everything in a peaceful sort of glow. Yes, he was back in the Bag End Tea Shop. He, as a man, a very proper and handsome and certainty not brooding man, was here to get things done. Done as they should be. “Yes, my last name is Durin, but you can call me Thorin,” he would boom to Mister Baggins once he reappeared from the backroom, “and I’m going to pick you up at eight tonight for a date.” Then while the adorable man stuttered out a response, he would take his hand, kiss it with a low bow (because anything else wouldn’t do for someone as charming as Bilbo), and leave thusly.

 

Perfect.

Disgustingly well done, if he said so himself… which he did of course. Yes, that would end that. Then he would be the one placing his hands on knees in public, not Kili. Thorin would never admit it, but perhaps he was a little burned that his nephew was more adept in romantic endeavors than he.

 

There was the soft stutter of a laugh, then the object of his affections returned from the right of the store, letting the door swing shut behind him. His head was tilted towards his shoulder, wedging a phone in place as he talked into it, his arms full with a box of new teapots. Thorin spied the spilling over of a double chin from the position of Bilbo’s head, and again reflected on just how cute and doughy the man was… Yes. This would go just fine. Look at how relaxed he was, putting away teapots as his voice lit up the store, punctuated by soft bouts of laughter. The crème colored shirt he was wearing today looked fantastic on him, and as always, his butt was very--- Bilbo Baggins turned around from placing the last pot on a shelf. “Oh Mister Dur- I mean, um, are you ready to order?” He shuffled behind the counter, shyly pushing a curl behind his ear, as he pointedly did not make eye contact. Thorin’s once relaxed features turned stony underneath the other’s focus. In just mere seconds he had been reduced to sweaty palms, which told him that… despite what had been previously thought…

 

He couldn’t do this.

 

He stood as still as a statue, towering over the counter and a confused Bilbo who finally looked up. The familiar sensation of his throat tightening overtook him as he looked into those brown eyes. The smaller man slowly inclined his head, as if it might somehow help the tense being in front of him. When it clearly didn’t, a frown creased his features as he cleared his throat and then slowly slid a menu incased in plastic across the counter until it bumped Thorin’s hand. “It’s…” Bilbo began. He floundered under what was such an intense stare, before finally sighing. “I’m sorry if I got your name wrong… It’s just, that is the last time I trust that Lobelia. I’m very embarrassed, and I’m sorry.” He pressed with a smile, his cheeks dotting with pink… yet his courage slowly began to cave as Thorin continued to stare.

 

Say something, Thorin mentally roared at himself as he watched the shorter man deflate in front of him. After a second, he felt his head incline in a nod which seemed to untense the other man’s shoulders. “I…” his voice caught painfully with a croak and he blinked slowly in anger. “…would like whatever you would recommend.” He pushed away from the counter after leaving a ten and took a very displeased seat beside the bookcase.

 

Damn it all to hell.

The tea tasted bitter and like heated water, as per usual. He took long, steadying gulps regardless. Completely sour with himself, he moodily scratched the hair on his chin and watched the books beside him as if they somehow held all the answers. I am “Mister Durin”, he thought with a mix of mourning and anger. I am Thorin, and you are very handsome and I only come to drink your nasty tea because I hope to one day drink in all that you have to offer instead… He hadn’t corrected the name situation in the least, and if Bilbo’s squirming meant anything, he had either offended the man, or frightened him, or both.

 

Rubbing his brow with a pained expression, he told himself to think of his cases for distraction.

It wasn’t the sound of the door swinging open and close that startled him from his thoughts, but rather the sound of a name being said very warmly and with a familiarity.

 

“Kili!” His head jerked up. His nephew indeed stood in the entranceway of the shop, grinning through his locks at a smiling Bilbo. The teenager rushed into motion with a cheery, “Mista Boggins!” And it was all Thorin could do from choking on his tea as they embraced… or rather, Kili threw himself onto the man.

 

Yes, it was his nephew who had broken Thorin’s resolve.

 

And now he was going to kill him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a separate document containing ideas for each chapter and I must say...  
> Thorin doesn't listen to me! I've only half-way tackled the first one, haha. I blame him.
> 
> Also, I know that Kili and Ori aren't a really popular pairing and I'm sorry if anyone doesn't like it. I personally think the pairing is really cute because they're both so young and Kili is like an over-eager puppy, while Ori is more calm and thought out.


	4. The Question of Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili buys Ori some tea and has a realization. 
> 
> Or... Thorin has trouble coming his way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is shorter and less interesting… but now things can begin! (Which really just means that Dis cracks down on her brother and Thorin can hold actual conversations with Bilbo. Also everyone has terrible ideas. Terrible)

Thorin Durin thought of himself as a man of upstanding self-control. Being that, he had trouble grasping just why he couldn’t stop himself from staring, no doubt looking stunned, as his nephew bumped hips with the shorter Bilbo Baggins. At their laughter, something in him began to wilt, picking at his health. He felt feverish now and a little faint as he gripped the side of the table, staring at the steam that was lifting from his cup. 

Damn it, Kili.

He took a deep, steadying breath and rose from the table, his powerful form being noticed by the curious eyes of his nephew.   
Before he could open his mouth, Thorin was out the door with a few swift steps, leaving Bilbo staring after him with a wrinkled brow. He’d hardly touched his tea…

“That man…” He sighed, rubbing his chin with the palm of his hand as his gaze followed Thorin’s form when he walked past the window. Kili shifted his weight, his expression briefly unreadable before he sort of grinned with a shuffle of his feet. “That’s my uncle…but, uh, I thought he didn’t like tea…” Bilbo’s eyes were upon the teen’s face in an instant. No, he thought, feeling scandalized. That dark, brooding man was Kili’s uncle? In a way he could see the resemblance, at least in color…. But… Well, maybe the eyes too… It was just… Kili was so bright and bubbly, and that man was so… mm… dark, he’d call it.  
It sounded dramatic though, and he thought himself a bit silly for using that label.

“He was coming in here for quite a while…” Kili just blinks at this, and Bilbo looks to the empty table where Thorin once sat. Did he really not like tea? Now that he was thinking on it, his ordering really was erratic. Usually people tended to have a favorite type and stuck to that. Thorin just generally… tapped something on the menu with his index finger. Now quite unsure of how he had missed it on his own, Bilbo merely ruffled his own curls with a sigh. Beside him Kili pushed his dark locks from his face, his mouth pulling thin as he scratched the scruff on his chin. Growing a beard was itchy, but Fili had just laughed at him when he’d said so. 

The subject of Thorin dwindled away and Bilbo left Kili to pursue the goods he had recently stocked.

Paying for the loose-leaf tea Ori favored most, he’d just manage to hand Bilbo his money before he was asked about school. He could feel his mouth stretching wide, lifting his cheeks as he grinned shamelessly. The small man eyed him suspiciously before laughing and promptly handing him the money back, much to his surprise. “You’re failing, aren’t you?” Bilbo chuckled, scrunching his nose in a way that could be described as rueful. Kili thought it was cute and looked over the returned money briefly. Nose scrunching and bad grades aside, it didn’t make sense why he’d been handed it back. “You don’t want it, Mista Boggins?” The money had been the right amount, he had double-checked just incase. His fingers curled over the bills slowly, glancing up to see Bilbo looking quite unimpressed. A flash of embarrassment ran through him. Had he been wrong, twice? “Kili—Your school,” his tone was insisting, but he softened, stepping away from the register. “If the tea is for your boyfriend, you can use that money to get him some food…” He waved airily at the teen, “It’s on the house this once, but get your grades up!” …Oh… Kili thought stupidly, but with it came the happiness that always accompanied him. Mista Boggins is nothing like uncle. The thought was so sudden, he felt as if he’d been knocked on the head. Where the heck had that come from?

Kili had a lot to think on when he got home, being that he was left alone in his room to homework he didn’t want to do. Having tossed the bag of tea onto his desk next to his English binder, he could hear Fili yelling from the kitchen, no doubt too lazy to have a normal conversation with their mom in the living room. Mister Boggins had said that Uncle went to his shop all the time, yet the last time he had been offered tea by Dori, he had politely declined with the excuse that he didn’t like it.

Most nephews would have just shrugged it off with the thought that their uncle had changed his mind. Most nephews weren’t Kili though, and however thickheaded he could be, he could tell when something just wasn’t right. His navy comforter relented as he threw himself against it, flopping down on his bed with little grace. A good stretch left him relaxed and his toes tingling. What was Uncle doing at a teashop anyway? He smiles, suddenly sleepy as he imagines his uncle looking his most unhappy, and then mentally sticks him next to a smiling Bilbo.

….  
Oh.

OH.

He jerks upright in bed, dragging half of his comforter off as he leaps to his feet. “Fili!” He calls breathlessly, hightailing it down the hallway.

 

“No,” his brother breathes, stroking his small dirty blonde beard as his eyes become distant. This was his thinking face, Kili knew it well; his brother’s jaw would loosen while his eyes focused on some unknown location, thoughts being turned about in his head as he pieced things together. “I could be wrong,” Kili admits, but he’s grinning and it lights up his entire face, because he knows he isn’t. He can’t be, and so the two just share a long, gleeful look because knocking heads gently.

“I had been under that impression Uncle’s dick didn’t function,” Fili says so seriously that Kili’s laughter echoes through the entire house, catching Dis’ suspicion.


	5. Influences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin spends some time with the boys, 
> 
> or... Thorin buys his nephews beer because he is an awesome uncle, also Bilbo.

“Sweaters,” Dis set her mug with a clink down on his office desk as she spoke. Thorin stared at it, knowing that he hadn’t invited his sister to come by his office at any point this week. “His type is the type to like sweaters— Boggins, was it?” She scratched her arm, looking at her brother’s bleak office walls. He was such a drab man. “Baggins,” Thorin corrected with a bite to his tone. He was trying to remain as cool as possible, licking his thumb as he ruffled through a set of papers to make sure he’d signed each one at the bottom. He had known that day when he’d left the Bag End Tea Shop with Kili inside it, that it was only a matter of time before his nosy sister came poking around for him. “HM, Kili called him ‘Boggins’”, she waved her hand airily as if the matter of his name was unimportant. 

Thorin just cleared his throat loudly, leaning so far over his paperwork that the ends of his hair touched his desk. His position, the tense air in the room, and the vibe he was giving off would have made anyone else hightail it from his office. Dis merely gave him a simpering smile, the same one she’d given him when he was three before pushing him in their pool to drown. It was safe to say his returning expression was a quick pucker of his lips and a steely glare. Telling his sister to kindly fuck off would probably result in her flipping his desk and his nephews avoiding him out of fear for their well being. He swallowed his words as if they were a thick porridge. Dis took a seat on his desk, making his stapler clatter to the floor. “I know you think all I do everyday is plan how to piss my baby brother off, but I really am trying to help.” Dis’ voice was as blunt as it could get, and even she seemed fed up at this time. 

Thorin released a long breath from his nose, sliding back to lean fully into his chair. It’d been another lonely week that had passed, and his avoidance of the teashop had been in full force. Yet… whenever he took a break from work, Bilbo Baggins haunted his thoughts. He wasn’t being driven mad thinking about the man but he was there, lingering in the back of his mind. When it came down to it, Thorin had to make a decision or else he’d never get left alone about it. 

The problem was, he was a private man. Being as such, he purposely didn’t let people into his life. He hadn’t dwelled over his home being so quiet or his life being so stuffed of only work until recently. It was… uncomfortable. He didn’t do surprises; he was a man of routine. And Bilbo Baggins was a surprise. In the end, he didn’t want his life to change. He didn’t want to do anything about the owner of the Bag End teashop, because he didn’t even like tea and he was sure being so interested in the other man was just a phase. 

He doubted he’d even be interesting in a conversation. He got along with teenagers for fucks sake. Immature, he must be immature. Realizing his mood had gone sour, he decided to end this here and now. “I’m not that interested, Dis”, his sister began to disagree, but he swiftly cut her off. “I know it’s hard for to you believe that I am happy with my life as is, but I have my family, close friends and colleagues which is enough for me to feel content.” Besides, his life had never felt like it lacked anything before now. Like the few before him, Bilbo Baggins of Bag End would eventually fade from his mind. He was a passing fancy and Thorin had no intention of changing his life for a small interest. Everything would settle down in time. Dis shifted off his desk, her lips pulling taunt before the tension slowly leaked from them and she was left, suddenly looking aged and tired as she watched her younger sibling. “Alright. Well, the boys wanted to have lunch with you today, do you have the time?”

Dis knew he always had time for his nephews. “I can’t do lunch, but dinner instead. They can sleep at my place.”

Wedged between the two boys at the Green Dragon bar, Thorin merely chuckled as they gripped the mugs of beer he had ordered with a buzz of excitement. “I’m texting a picture of this to Ori,” Kili whispered behind his uncle’s back to Fili, who merely cocked an eyebrow at him with a wryly smile and a wink. He was much more composed about the whole ordeal. Fili had always been the more calm-headed brother, although he was easily riled up when Kili came into the equation. Resembling his passed father with his blonde hair that he kept long and braided, he very rarely wore it in anything but a ponytail. Sometimes he could tell his mother saw his father in him. Perhaps it was the humored depths of his eyes, or the quirk of his lips. Maybe it was in his entire demeanor, but she said nothing and he was grateful for it. “Do not tell your mother about this,” Thorin repeated what he had said the entire drive down as he accepted his own mug, unable to stress it enough. The youngest of the brothers laughed, pushing his hair from his face despite the glare he earned. “You’ve told us ten times already-” Fili interrupted him, giving his displeased uncle a promising and mature smile. “That’s because you can’t keep your mouth shut, Kil’. We understand, we won’t tell mother anything.” Kili smothered his complaints in his mug, getting the tip of his nose wet as he pouted. Sulking aside, both brothers knew that they weren’t about to willingly give up alcohol. There were some things even their mom didn’t need to know…

The atmosphere of the Green Dragon was more composed than most bars. While Thorin thought that the rowdy spirits of bar patrons at other places would be easy for the boys to relate to, it was often too much for him. Besides, the last thing he needed was for either of them to get so drunk off their face that they decided to do something stupid, like a bar fight. He may be able to outrun Dis over hickies, but if her children came back from his care sporting black eyes or missing teeth… He’d have to leave the country. No… It was better to start them here, with Dwalin as their bartender. 

 

Scuffing the tip of his boot on the dirty concrete floor, Fili’s head was tilted to the side. The ends of his ponytail just brushed his shoulder blades, reaching for the bar surface. Uncle Thorin was busy staring at his phone, reading some email from a client about their case. Earlier that afternoon, after they’d gotten home from school, his mother had lamented the unfortunate news that their uncle’s dick really was out of order. Today he had told her flat out that he had absolutely no interest in doing anything about his attraction to that Boggins man Kili was always blabbering about with Ori. 

Fili didn’t quite get all the fuss, but he hadn’t whined and bemoaned his uncle’s response like his mother and Kili had. Sure, it had been exciting when his brother had barged into his room with the unexpected news… But Uncle Thorin was a grown man, who was doing very well in his work and business. 

Half an hour in, Kili had taken to his first mug like a man dying of thirst and was well into the third. Thorin was resting his chin in his palm, and exchanged a knowing look with Dwalin, whom was wiping down glasses. No more for that lad. Fili, whom was nursing his second, had more experience with the stuff due to being two years older and knowing the right people. Scratching his blonde beard, his eyes crinkled for a second, before he laid down a dirty joke that even had Thorin’s ears turning red. A surprised bark of a laugh left Thorin’s mouth before he tried to catch himself with the reminder that this was his 19-year-old nephew. It was too late, addled by beer and the two teens who were laughing hysterically against his side, he merely chuckled and pulled their heads underneath his arms. “Idiots…”

“I know one!” Kili slurred, his eyes wide and glossy as he pushed at his uncle’s side to be released. His hair was a bird’s nest on one side when he was able to finally sit upright, swaying a little in his seat. Fili nearly snorted up a noseful of drink at the image he made. “Kili—” Thorin began, in what he tried to make a soothing rumble. It was punctuated by too much amusement to be so. “—What is red and smells like blue paint?!” Kili exclaimed whilst looking particularly excited as he leant forward on the bar with his chin in hand. His lips were stretched into a grin that seemed to try and devour his face whole. The expression soaked into his eyes, filling up his flushed cheeks, and left him looking like the epitome of happiness. He was never one to be left out, desperate to be apart of a group, and with the help of alcohol, he had even less shame than usual. Fili groaned softly, rubbing his own flushed face as he squinted at his little brother, “Is it red paint?”

Kili’s echoing yell of “RED PAINT!” Had several of the patrons glancing at them with ill-concealed amusement. Kili’s upper body collapsed against the bar in laughter. Thorin pinched the bridge of his nose, smiling despite himself as he slapped his credit card down loudly enough to get Dwalin’s attention. It was time to take the boys home, clearly.

He let the teens wander aimlessly, knowing they’d just go to check out the arcade games towards the front. He just had to sign the check, and then he’d probably have to drag Kili into his car… “Oy, don’t bring them too often, else we both get arrested,” Dwalin grunted as he slid him a pen. Thorin didn’t feel threatened, able to read the humor in his voice. “You missed them,” he mumbled in reply. He didn’t have to look up to know his friend was smiling. “Tell Dis that I hope she’s doin’ well.” Thorin’s head inclined in acknowledgement before he stepped from the bar, seeking out his nephews.

Fili was fiddling with a crane game, his forehead pressed against the glass while Kili watched him as if he were the most amazing thing on earth. Shaking his head, Thorin pulled out his keys with a chuckle. “Let’s go…” Kili’s head jerked up, and he thought that maybe herding him into his car would be easier than he had imagined. He was so very, very wrong.

“Mista Boggins!” Kili chirped, stumbling over his own feet for a second before he went bounding past his uncle and all but threw himself onto Bilbo, who had just walked through the door. He was nearly knocked off balance. A man sporting a hat behind them managed to right the two, merely nodding as Dwalin greeted him from the bar, “been awhile, Bofur. Watch those two idiots.” Bilbo’s eyes widened as he tried to juggle the drunk teen, looking into his flushed and dopey face with astonishment. “Kili! But you’re under…” He seemed wise enough to swallow his words as Dwalin pointedly cleared his throat from the bar. His brown eyes swiveled to the form of Thorin, his lips parting as he put two and two together.

It was in that moment that Fili realized how very wrong he had been to not share in the disappointment of his brother and mother. There was something different to his uncle when he looked at the acclaimed “Mister Boggins”. It was as if he were breathing fresh air for the first time. His stance seemed to straighten, his eyes becoming more blue and lightened by life. Even the heavy lines that often appeared on his forehead seemed to disappear. It was here that Fili changed his mind entirely; his uncle was a stubborn old man, too buried in the routine of his life to realize what he was passing up. He moved without thinking, passing up his uncle to pry off his brother. With a fleeting smile at the short man, he grabbed Bilbo’s friend’s arm as an afterthought, hauling them off towards the back of the bar. No excuses, Uncle. No excuses.

Thorin watched as he was abandoned. As he often was in the presence of Bilbo Baggins, he was frozen to the spot. He knew how this looked. He knew what a vile picture he had painted of himself in only a matter of minutes. He, the sole corrupter of his young and trusting nephews. Bilbo with his quaint little teashop would never regard him the same again, if he had regarded him as anything at all. But it shouldn’t matter. He had plainly expressed his disinterest today. He had casted off his attraction to the man as nothing but fleeting. Bilbo’s opinion should have never mattered, but it did.

Now they stood, facing each other in a worn down silence. Any moment now, his face would scrunch, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Thorin with unhidden disgust.

Bilbo’s head tilted, those damn curls of his bouncing with the action as he… laughed. It wasn’t one full from the gut, but it was there, a soft noise against the rumble of the bar. Thorin swallowed thickly. “You…” he pointed right at him, “I’ll have you know, are meant to be a good influence as Kili’s uncle.” The finger drops so that he can gesture about the bar. He was wearing a warm brown throw-over, Thorin noted warily. “Not taking him to The Green Dragon,” Bilbo finished with a small bob of his head, perhaps in agreement with himself. Thorin blinked at him owlishly before he scowled, unable to tell just whether he was being scolded or not. Fueled by alcohol, he found this very unjust. He wasn’t a bad influence, and it was this man’s fault for always catching him off guard. He was a great uncle. Great uncles bought their underage nephews beer. So…There. 

The two stood like that, before Bilbo felt truly awkward and looked away, rubbing his shoulder with an exhale. “Right, um, sorry…” He glanced behind him for his friend, only to find Bofur gone. … When had everyone left for that matter? It was with a slight flush that he realized he had been so focused on the brooding man in front of him that he had missed their departure. Suddenly nervous, he looked ahead to find those blue eyes focused on him in a glower. A small panic rose in his throat, “yes, excuse me, goodbye!” He said in haste, turning on his heel. Why had he even said anything in the first place?! Clearly the man couldn’t tell when someone was being playful. It was hard to imagine how Kili was how he was when it was starting to seem like he spent so much time with his uncle. He moved to the bar quickly, hoping that Bofur would rejoin his side as soon as possible when Thorin took a heavy seat next to him. Stiffening, he leant as subtly away from the man as possible, clearing his throat.

“My last name is ‘Durin’.” Bilbo did a double take, watching as Thorin scowled and adverted his eyes. Suddenly everything odd about him seemed to fall into place and he softened. Oh. Oh… He wasn’t good at talking with people. “So you are normally addressed as ‘Mister Durin’, then…?” Thorin’s head bobbed in agreement and he paused before delicately pushing some of his thick hair behind his ear. He seemed to be watching the coaster by Bilbo’s hand more than anything. “… You should call me ‘Thorin’,” his voice rumbled lowly. It earns a good natured laugh from the shorter man, his eyes catching with mirth as he slowly takes the broad hand Thorin was hiding underneath the bar top and shook it. It was incredibly warm and calloused, giving it a pleasant texture that only stretched his smile more. “I’m Bilbo, and I’m incredibly fond of your nephew.”

Thorin’s forehead wrinkled, causing Bilbo worry that perhaps he had offended him, until the man was forced to ask, “which one?” Bilbo’s brown eyes grew wide before he licked his lips and glanced to the amused bartender that had been eavesdropping. “So you brought both of your under aged nephews to drink…” he mused, remembering the blonde with the pulled back hair. Thorin straightened beside him, his heavy jacket constricting his movements a bit. “No,” he protested quickly but upon looking at the other’s cocked brow, relented with a low groan. He rubbed his forehead, slowly lowering it as Dwalin laughed, the bastard. “Yes. Please do not tell my sister.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! I did the chapter super early this week, (for once)… and stuff happened in this one. Pats on the back for me. If you can’t tell that I love Thorin with his nephews from reading this, then just let me reaffirm that.


	6. Fortunes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bofur and Fili have some words.
> 
> Or... forget Thorin, Bofur is smooth like whoa.
> 
> (I actually wrote the summary way before I finished the chapter. Bofur and Fili aren't in this one that much. BUT IT MADE ME LAUGH SO IM KEEPING IT.)

Fili was juggling a giggling Kili, who he had to struggle to hold up right. Mister Boggin’s friend, whoever he was, was surprisingly still beside him. When he felt another pair of arms wrap around his brother and help him into the chair, he didn’t think he’d ever been more grateful. Then he looked into the man’s face and his gratitude increased ten-fold, because Mister Boggin’s friend had a very nice smile and flushed cheeks that looked like they were often pulled up with expressions of mirth. He also seemed a bit older than him. 

He cleared his throat, wondering how badly his breath smelt of beer and idly swatted at Kili’s hand when it tugged at the bottom of his shirt. Well, he hadn’t been expecting this. It didn’t help that he had dragged the guy off without explanation, and the one he had to give sounded… childish. 

The man settled beside him with a quick adjustment of his hat. A silence fell between them before a, “Do you think they’ll hook up?” sounded beside him. Fili startled, realizing it was not his brother who had spoken, but instead the helpful stranger. Looking into those glistening, brown eyes, he felt his lips pull back to reveal his teeth in a smile. “I doubt they will tonight. I’m Fili,” he introduced himself, relieved that he didn’t have to explain anything. 

“Bofur,” the man replies, and Fili’s given a pleasant laugh along with the name, making him rub his right eye. He’d hadn’t drunk that much beer… Sure, he felt relaxed, but…

“I can read fortunes,” Bofur tells him with a smile. Fili lowered his hand at this, looking into his face. Those lips were quivering; he was trying so very hard to look serious that Fili found himself relenting with a grin. Kili, properly drunk, took to Bofur’s admission like a fish after bait. He leant forward, pushing his curtain of hair from his face as he rested his elbows on his knees. “Fortunes?!” He inquired with such desperation and innocence that Fili almost groaned. That Ori, bless him, bless him for looking after his baby brother. “Gimmie your hands,” Bofur offered his own, palms up. Kili enthusiastically slapped his down on top. Whether he did so hard enough to sting, it didn’t show and the older man just chuckled merrily. Thus began the most unorthodox palm reading that Fili would ever witness in his lifetime. 

Kili’s hands were lifted here and there, his fingernails and cuticles picked at, and altogether every single wrinkle or scar was given a thorough look over. This man’s laughs were rich and warm, falling easily from his lips. Maybe Fili had underestimated his alcohol intake, because he was feeling a little too smitten with someone he had just met. “I see…” Bofur hummed, drawing it out further as Kili squinted, transfixed on their hands. “A love, whether old or new, which is bloomin’, as pretty as a flower.” Kili’s smile was lopsided and wide, his mind going straight to his boyfriend who was no doubt at home, fiddling with his journals and yarn. Fili felt his own mouth pull into a halved smile, and a bit stunned, tried to chalk the “reading” off as a vague guess. He felt more than saw Kili stumble to his feet, forcing himself to look at him. “I’m going to, um… call Ori.” Fili shifted, wary of him falling flat on his face when he took a few unsteady steps backwards, but he was insistent about it. “Don’t go outside, go into the bathroom, dummy…” Fili muttered, scrunching his own ponytail in his hand as he watched him go with a shake of his head. Really, he should have taken his brother to his friends’ houses before this, just to better acquaint him with alcohol. He knew this was his first time drinking…

The sound of rich laughter reminded him who was beside him, and Fili tilted his head to look. He was afraid to brush faces with Bofur, who seemed to have inched a bit closer. Their knees bumped, leaving the blonde with an excited rush. “I can read yours too,” he offered lightly enough, but Fili was already looking too far into the other’s eyes, which were so stained with mirth that a breathless laugh leaves him in return. He hadn’t noticed before, but he had a braid handing out from the right side of his hat. “I don’t believe in that,” he can already feel his nose scrunching as he says it, and wonders how childish he looks next to the other man. He probably reeked of beer. 

He laid his palms over Bofur’s outstretched hands anyway. Bofur’s were warm and if Fili purposely stared at them so that he wouldn’t have to look him in the eye, then it was no ones business but his own. He could feel himself being examined, and unlike before, there wasn’t much flair put into it. Those fingers just smoothed over the top then bottom of his palms, until they were tugged and he finally had to look up. Bofur’s brown eyes were very serious and focused on him. His fingers tightened enough to squeeze, then released. He was smiling again, but it wasn’t as cheeky, and it seemed to be lacking all of that pleasant warmth he seemed to radiate. “Now this is awful forward, but I can’t read fortunes.” At Fili’s one-syllable laugh, Bofur’s head ducks with a grin. There’s some old, cheesy song about motorcycles and burning love playing in the background that his uncle would love, but all Fili is able to do is really focus on was how Bofur’s rich eyes peered at him from under the ridge of his hat. “I know it’s hard to believe I can’t!” Fili nods gravely, but is unable to stop smirking. “You tricked me.” 

“Well if you ain’t too upset, I can give you something else that has to do with palms instead.” Fili doesn’t have time to wonder where the hell he’d gotten a pen from as a number is messily scrawled onto his skin.

 

At the bar, Bilbo was sipping his beer. Thorin had never seen anyone drink so delicately and with such thought, but here he was doing so and Bilbo was far more than he had bargained for.

You were supposed to be boring, he thought with no light amount of scorn, watching the way the dim lighting of the bar caught on his curls. “So,” Bilbo tried again, holding out his hand once he had set his mug down. “Dis is your sister, and is the mother of Kili and…”  
“--Fili,” Thorin supplied helpfully, watching as Bilbo ticked off the names on his fingers. They were rather short… just like him. 

“Yes, Fili. You’re their uncle, but they have another uncle overseas?”  
Now that he was looking at his hands, they were just small in general. How would they feel slipped into his? 

Bilbo’s amused but patient gaze pulled him from his thoughts. Thorin cleared his throat; declining when Dwalin made a gesture to serve him more, “Yes… their uncle Frerin.” Thorin carded his hand through the side of his hair that wasn’t facing the other man. “You are… very interested,” he added on lowly, afraid to say anything that would make himself come off as harsh. Bilbo’s eyes took on an odd light as he gave him a short but inquiring look. He took a drink. Thorin purposely didn’t watch his adam’s apple bob, or the way his lips curved against the mug. Rubbing his fingers together as he heard the mug click against the bar surface, he tried to swallow his attraction. He needn’t worry, as Bilbo was again talking. “Sorry, I just thought you knew…” 

Thorin’s eyebrows slowly rose, his face taking on the expression he often wore when he suspected he was about to be informed of something he didn’t wish to know. Bilbo’s smile became a bit crooked at this. They stared at each other for a moment, Bilbo’s fingers tapping his mug as Thorin wondered how it was possible for someone to look so good, even with wrinkles on their forehead and around their eyes. “…Dis asked me if I could watch Kili whenever she was out.” Thorin’s fingers unsurprisingly found the bridge of his nose, which he pinched.

 

Dis… he wanted to think she was scheming, but he knew it wasn’t so. It wasn’t hard to see how attached Kili was to Bilbo. He was the perfect choice to watch over a son that was too old to need to be supervised in the first place.

“I see,” and there was a strain in his voice that left Bilbo looking as if he were swallowing a laugh.  
“Do you…?” It’s asked lightly in return. Thorin’s eyebrows raise. They look at each other for a moment. His chest tightens with the thought that they were about to dip into a particularly deep awkward silence. Damn this man, it shouldn’t matter. He was the king of ruining conversations if he saw fit to. He wasn’t the type of person to just sit and talk idly with someone he’d just met, and so when people tried…

The short fingers he’d been admiring earlier found his underneath the bar. They brushed, just the very tips, against his knuckles. Bilbo wasn’t looking quite at him anymore, his face tilted partially towards Dwalin instead who was on the opposite end of the bar. Underneath the dim lighting a blush was harder to spot, but it was there, he was sure. Had that… just been an accident, one he was too shy to even admit to?

His knuckles were tingling. It was very disconcerting.  
It was an accident, he was sure of it.  
“I’ll be watching Kili this weekend… Do you think Fili will come?”  
Thorin squares his shoulders at this, not expecting a continuation of their conversation so soon.  
“It’s likely, they’re very close.” Bilbo is looking at him again, his smiling lips against the rim of his drink. Thorin’s stomach lurches. He’s beautiful, or handsome rather. Bilbo was a man; there was no doubt about that,

“I was an only child, although God knows that my mother tried,” Bilbo’s words are punctuated with laughs, and Thorin knows he was a difficult child before he even says it.  
“You were… a handful?”  
“Oh, quite. I was convinced for years that there were elves living in our backyard, and nothing in the world could stop me going out at night to try and catch fairies in jars…” His eyes become distant now, his fingers tightening on his mug before he sets it down. The click isn’t audible over the lull of the bar. “… My dad said I was more than enough… mmm…” He’s humming now, tuneless, trying to collect his thoughts. “I didn’t grow up here exactly… That is, um, there’s more to the Shire than people realize. You of course have the businesses, and the pretty shops, but there’s the more rural part that stretches out into the country.” While Bilbo rubs his fingers on the condensation his beer is creating, Thorin imagines him among tall trees; so thick it was as if they were statues of stone rather than living things.

“I didn’t grow up in the neighborhoods they have now.” No, Thorin imagined he didn’t and he wouldn’t have it any other way. A young Bilbo collecting imaginary fairies and having to settle for fireflies played in his mind. He very badly wanted to smile. He just took a long drink from his mug instead.

 

The hours melted away until a tired Kili found the two of them. Looking into his nephew’s face, he could tell the alcohol had mostly worn off and he chuckles deeply. They had… really been in each other’s company for that long, then? Kili has no qualms of sagging against his uncle, even though he’s standing and the man is sitting. Thorin instinctively ruffles his hair, which earns a grunt from Kili and a smile from Bilbo. There’s a moment where their eyes meet, but then Kili begins to whine quietly about being tired. 

He grunts, hefting himself up as he goes to pay for his beer and as an afterthought, pays for Bilbo’s too. Bilbo who is busy helping Kili up, is pushing his nephew’s hair from his face with a wobbly smile, looking like he wants to laugh. Kili stares down at him, completely serious as he tells Bilbo that his boyfriend is the best boyfriend in the entire world.  
“Kili,” Bilbo says, “don’t drink anymore tonight.”

 

Bilbo’s friend rejoined them and soon Fili had reappeared as well. Thorin felt a bit thrown, only because he had forgotten that Bilbo hadn’t come alone. Eyeing that odd hat, he passed him off as harmless when he stood at a friendly but respectful distance from Bilbo. The walk to the car was a bit of a struggle, as he had to practically command the boys to stay behind. Fili snerked at his uncle’s angry expression, Kili’s laughter became much louder with his brother’s encouragement. Thorin cuffed them both.

He found Bilbo waiting for him, able to see the silhouette of his friend through the car window. The shorter man pushed himself off the running vehicle, the smell of exhaust hanging heavily between them. “Thanks for, um, my drink…” Thorin inclined his head in reply, looking down on him. It was dark, and so the other’s features were hard to make out. “…It was nice meeting you, Thorin Durin.” He hears rather then sees the smile that accompanies his last name. He has the decency to chuckle, feeling something altogether warm stirring in his chest. “And you, Bilbo Baggins…”  
There’s an exhale of breath between them, Thorin listens carefully for more.  
“Don’t be afraid to talk to me in my shop… Lobelia is a terrible gossip no matter what. We might as well as indulge her.” Thorin promised he would.

With both the boys put down for bed he sat in his own, sliding his tongue over his now minty teeth.

…Bilbo Baggins was meant to be boring.

 

The brothers lay in the guest bedroom so that their legs were touching. The sound of sleep permeated the room with soft, snuffling breaths and quiet murmurs of blankets rustling. Fili’s eyes opened in the dark, thinking first of the number on his hand then to his uncle. “Ki…?” He murmurs, just loud enough to rouse anyone who wasn’t fully asleep.  
“Mm?” He gets in reply, making him smile. “Would you like me to come with you to Mister Boggins this weekend?”  
The bed creaks as Kili rolls onto his side, looking at his brother through his hair. “What do you have planned?”  
“Well, with mother gone, it’d be so terrible of us to forget our homework at home… Why, someone would have to bring it to Mister Boggin’s for us, wouldn’t they?”  
Kili snickers, his nose scrunching as he rubs his face with his hand. “Yes and shut up, I’m tired.” Fili grunts and then smacks him right on the ass, making Kili squawk and roll away so fast that he tumbles straight off the bed.

Thorin just sighs as he hears the sound of laughter from his room. He didn’t want to know what his nephews were up to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for all that have kept up with Tea Time during my weeks of wondering when my flipping summer was going to finally be here... AKA finals.
> 
> It's weird writing conversations back and forth, because I have been a RPer for so long, so I'm sorry if they're confusing or awkward. I'm trying to write better!
> 
> I'll be starting my own stories, animations, and character concepts on my tumblr, Happywrites in a few weeks.
> 
> I also post chapters of Tea Time on there.


	7. Clubs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili and Kili forget important homework, so Thorin has to help.
> 
> Or... Thorin is going to destroy Fili and Kili, but Bilbo is very nice to look at. Maybe he'll reconsider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to get this chapter posted last week, but on my days off I got called into work so it didn't get worked on.
> 
> There probably will be a wait for the next as well, because I'm now using my only days off this week to write this one and, well, yeah.
> 
> I'm sorry!

Thorin’s hair is wet from his shower. Even now, he can feel the water trickling from the ends and making wet trails on his back. Standing in his living room, which Dis tells him is completely impersonal looking and eerie like a ghost, he adjusts his jeans idly and sighs. With a thick stack of papers balanced in his arms, he attempts to fumble through them with his right hand, mindful of dropping them but too lazy to move into a different room to set them down. He stubbornly thumbed through each one, counting the page numbers down under his breath, which hitched with a curse when the numbers began to appear out of order. Who the hell had organized this?

Maybe standing around shirtless in his house whilst trying to find the correct document to prove that his client, a mister John Fawk, had indeed attempted to file restraining orders several times against his abusive ex-spouse wasn’t the most ideal thing to be doing on a Saturday night.

Thorin would have told anyone who informed him of such to bother off in polite terms. 

_67…90…14…  
Damn it._  
He needed page 101, but he’d talk to Balin about this later. At this point, the lack of organization in this case was grinding on his nerves rather than the elusive document. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he decided to call it a night and began searching for proper space on his kitchen table. 

The first time he heard his phone vibrating from the other room, he ignored it. He was frying up eggs and toast now that he had ensured that the stack was out of harms way. After his phone’s desperate shuffling to get him to answer, it was just the sound of crackling eggs in the pan once more. Until someone called again, and again.

A rush of breath left him through parted lips, and it was with a steely determination that he ignored the back-to-back calls as he propped himself up on his counter and shimmied his eggs in-between two pieces of toast. He patiently ate through four more calls and licking his thumb, only took his time getting down and putting the plate in his sink on the fifth, sixth, and seventh.

He answered it by the ninth, wiping his hand on his jeans for good measure as his skin prickled with the flow of the AC in his desolate living room. “I’m busy,” he rumbled into the receiver, having not bothered to check who was calling. He was in an odd mood tonight. After a long, frustrating day at the office, he found he couldn’t muster himself to care about anything.

“Uncle! We’re at Mister Boggins.”  
Except that.  
Thorin felt himself straighten, suddenly aware of the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt when he hadn’t thought anything of it previously. His mind raced, because the voice obviously belonged to Kili, but why…

Then he remembered that Dis was entrusting her son into Bilbo Baggin’s care. Thorin licked his lips, realizing he had let a long stretch of silence go on.  
Always a man of great words, he cleared his throat and replied, “Okay…”

On the other end there was a rustling of fabric, a series of grunts and then a drawn-out, glorious laugh that gave Thorin goosebumps. “Hello?” It was Bilbo now, and he suddenly felt very naked.  
“Yes, Hello…”  
“Sorry, Thorin?”  
“…Yes…”  
“It’s Bilbo.”  
Oh, he knew just who it was, because after Bilbo Baggins had proved to be very resistant to being dull in any way at the bar, the damned tea maker had plagued his thoughts more vigorously than before.  
“Yes, Bilbo…” his tongue almost fumbled with the name, feeling odd to not address him with his surname in tow.  
“Is everything alright?”  
“No, I… well,” Bilbo sounded nervous and there was more rustling. “The boys forgot their homework at their house, and I didn’t think I was going anywhere tonight, so I had put my car in the shop…”

 

Thorin’s suspicion kicked in automatically at the word “boys”. That was plural. Fili was there with Kili. He loved his nephews, but as a pair their mischief making levels were through the roof. Thorin, being a man of great intellect and wit, did not actually need either to suspect that their homework wasn’t forgotten, but instead left. He came out of his thoughts at the sound of a heavy breath hitting the phone.

He had tapered off into silence again and was quick to rush back into conversation, “Yes, no, I mean, your car. Yes… of course. There’s… nothing wrong with that.”  
Thorin could only blink stupidly, then smack his own forehead at his messy words. Damn it.  
Bilbo sounded a mix between amused and frustrated, “Yes, so… they claim its important but I don’t know if I quite believe that.” Thorin didn’t need to strain his ears to hear twin sounds of protest in the background. “Could… please, do you mind getting the homework?”

He could feel his heart leaping into his throat as he clutched his phone a little tighter. He knew what that meant and he knew what the boys were doing. Him, with Bilbo, in his home…. He didn’t like this.

“Yes, yes. Let me just put on my shirt.”  
He wasn’t sure whose fast inhale he heard, his own or Bilbo Baggin’s, but it was with the feeling of ice crawling through his veins that he realized what he just said.  
“I will be there soon, good bye!” He hung up quickly to the sound of chuckling.

Oh, damn it.

 

He didn’t remember that Bilbo’s house was far out in the more rural part of the Shire until he’s driving there from Dis’ house. It was a distance, one he was going to make sure the boys’ paid for in gas. Yet as the road became more spread out and the trees thickened and became so tightly woven together with branches and greenery, he found himself forgetting to make his nephews fork up their allowance. Even in the dying light from the setting sun, everything was beautiful.

Bilbo’s home smelt of cider and baked apples. It was cozy, color-coordinated and well lived-in. To Thorin it’s apparent that it is rich in more ways than one; the quality of his home’s wood and furniture stands out, alongside its cleaned and seemingly polished state. Yet what stands forefront in his mind is the shy look Bilbo gives him when he answers the door, and the breathy laugh he makes when he says that this was his childhood home, passed down by his parents. Now he can almost imagine a young Bilbo darting down the halls, his hands full of frogs and mud pies, the things that make mothers cringe in time with their smiles.

The image is so striking to him that he has to blink away imagined ghosts of the past, remembering just why he came here as he was lead into the living room.

Yes, his nephews. 

Fili’s glance over the top of his phone was lazy, his blonde hair down and looking like it needed to be brushed. The light from the screen darkened the creases underneath his eyes, making him look completely un-phased when Thorin stared at him hard from over the top of Bilbo’s curly head. _You,_ he said with his eyes and the authority of his straight back, _are not meant to be here._  
Fili’s easy curve of his lips and the way he clicked his phone shut told Thorin, _but I am._

He was never taking these little shits anywhere ever again. They’d be thirty before he even so much entertained the thought of inviting them out on a friendly paid-for trip to the fucking zoo. God, they were the youngest of his family too.

Something in Thorin ached at this.  
Durin, line of idiots.*

“At least brush your hair,” he mouthed at him, ashamed for his sister. He was the eldest of the two; Fili should at least remember it. Bilbo just seemed happy to have the boys there and ruffled Kili’s hair as he walked past, earning a wide grin and an eager set of eyes.

“I have the homework you forgot,” Thorin rumbled lowly, his eyes never leaving his nephews’ despite the tempting scoff of laughter from Bilbo. He was a grown man who dealt with legal matters and the backstabbing that came with it, and so his nephews must really think he was quite the imbecile to not see what they had done. Completely unamused, he reached into his coat and pulled out the bundle of papers that he had collected out of their rooms. He had found them right on top of their desks, waiting for him. It was then and there that he had decided he was going to have a long, educational talk with his sister sons which most likely involved just why it wasn’t healthy to be as nosy as their infuriating mother. 

“Thank-you for getting their important,” Bilbo stressed with a scoff, “homework for them. I’m sorry I’m causing you so much trouble.”

Thorin looked away from his suddenly distracted nephews to take in the image Bilbo made behind the couch Fili was on. His arms were spread, supporting him as he leant against it, his head cocked gently to the side. His curls seemed especially fluffy this evening as they gently caressed his cheeks. 

He had already established the fact that Bilbo was very attractive, so he wished his mind would stop reminding him.

 

In the end he’s invited to stay for tea, which is quickly changed to coffee and he can’t find a good reason to decline despite being so ready for bed earlier. It’s hard to when Bilbo looks him in the eye with a gentle smile. He doesn’t even try to pretend that he had other plans.

The four of them faded into a casual normalcy, with the boys retiring to the floor. Their long, gangly legs moved and tanged with one another’s’ as they laid on their stomachs. There was only the sound of pencils on paper as homework was done and the quiet clicking on of the AC. Thorin looked over them, taking in Kili’s messy bun and the way Fili kept moving his hair behind his ears. It made him nostalgic for the children they used to be and his chest tightened. Suddenly he was too old and the coffee too warm in his hands. Shifting in the recliner he had taken to, he tried to chase the feeling away.

Bilbo, returning from checking on his pastries in the oven, seemed to sense this. Like a pillar of comfort he was there, and his hand squeezed Thorin’s shoulders just briefly before he retired to the couch Fili had previously occupied with his laptop in tow.

Somehow more settled, Thorin lifts his cup to his lips and quietly looks over his phone. This peace goes uninterrupted for several more minutes.

Then Kili’s attention falters as he hits a hard math problem. His chin goes against the wood floor, mouth pulled into a frown as he stares out with a mastered expression of sulking. This was boring he decided, and so with a soft grunt he flipped onto his back and sat up to look at his uncle and Mister Boggins.

 

“Mister Boggins is running a bookclub!” Kili announces to the quiet room, all ambition and easily seen through. Thorin’s eyes just rise slowly from his phone.

Bilbo, who’s on his quaint little couch, has his hair tucked behind his ears as he innocently browses recipes on his laptop. “It’s nothing,” he insists but there is a smile in his voice. He looks so domestic in this moment that it makes Thorin lose his breath. It makes him feel like he belongs, sitting in Bilbo Baggin’s home, having meaningless conversations with his nephews whilst Bilbo was at complete ease.

And still as attractive as ever.

He clears his throat. Fili glances up slowly from whatever problem he had been musing over, his phone resting in the dip of his back.

Thorin may feel old, but it’s been numbed. With the boys so at ease, both eager to hear what either adult might say, he just chuckles softly. It earns Bilbo’s full attention, whose lips twist into a curious smile. He angles himself to peer over his laptop screen at Thorin. His eyes become enhanced from its light. He can see very clearly now the softest of browns and the reflection of himself in them. Thorin forgets how to talk. Instead he leans over as calmly as he can, just barely able to reach, and shuts the screen with the tips of his fingers.

Fili laughs behind his palm.

“What book are you covering?” He’s compelled to say. Bilbo’s lips are pulling back to reveal his teeth as his smile grows and Thorin can only hope that his face is relaxed. His nephews are sniggering; it’s not a good sign.

“Hasting’s Pigeon.” Bilbo’s cheeks, pink, lift up as he’s smiling so wide now his entire face seems to be overcome by it. Thorin is afraid he may kiss him, so he draws back, feeling shaky from such powerful emotions. He just wanted to touch Bilbo. Not perversely, maybe just on the brow so he would somehow understand how wonderful he was and how he was making him feel like he’d lost his damn mind.

He tried to gather his sense now, in silence. His thumb ran circles over the smooth screen of his phone. “… What chapter? I’m reading that too,” he lied. Thorin didn’t read, not fiction and he just looks out at the now solemn faces of his nephews. Kili, his lips parted, stares back. Fili rubs his own neck, then his face. They both knew.

Bilbo, feeling as if he’d just missed the punch line to a joke, glances around the room. Things felt a little different now and Thorin was incredibly alluring when he pressed his presence onto him like that. There had been something he couldn’t read in his face, but it had been promising. Everything that man did was so strong and it always demanded his attention.

He couldn’t believe that Thorin was possibly asking to… come to his book meetings? That’s what it was looking like.  
“Chapter seven, um… the one with Lisa,” Thorin’s lips pull into a halved smile. He gets wrinkles around his eyes with it, and he inclines his head in a nod. “I just finished it last night. When do you meet?”

Kili finally rips his gaze away when he feels his hand being squeezed. Looking up from it, he follows the arm to his brother. Fili pressed his lips together then sighed, giving him a mock smile.  
Uncle had it really, really bad.  
Kili agreed.  
Uncle had it as bad for Mister Boggins and Kili did for Ori…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for everyone who is being patient about my dumb story.
> 
> I really appreciate it.
> 
> Also a big thank-you to just everyone who takes the time to comment and give me kudos.
> 
> * Durin line of idiots I got from tumblr off of Ewelock's tags. I couldn't resist using it.


End file.
